Shoes
by Topaz Fox
Summary: Kirby sure does like shoes, and Trent sure does like Kirby. Rated M just to be safe. Also, boy love.


(Sup dudes! Topaz here! It's been about three years since I've submitted anything here - so don't be too harsh, I'm just getting back into the swing of things. Right now I'm pretty obsessed with Bully. The characters and story are so damn amusing...and the fact that you can make out with other boys is a touch that I'm pretty grateful for. :P Thus, here's some delicious boy-on-boy-on-shoe fluff for you! Please read and review!)

(**Disclaimer: **I do not own Bully. If I did, it would be full of gratuitous nudity.)

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Kirby walked up to his favorite - well, the only - shoe store in Bullworth. He glanced furtively around to make sure no one he knew was anywhere nearby and saw only a nameless hobo walking in circles across the street. A dog barked in the distance, invisible through the falling snow. Still nervous, Kirby slipped through the door.

The shopkeeper didn't even look at him, thankfully. One other customer, a middle-aged woman, was the only other inhabitant of the dirty little shop.

Kirby wandered along the dimly-lit isles, looking through the men's styles first, letting his mind unravel while he pondered loafers and sandals. This - browsing through glorious footwear on a cold day in December by himself - was better than football or track or anything else.

He quickly grew bored with the monotonous colors, shapes and smells of the men's shoes and nervously sidled over to the women's section. Here was his real guilty pleasure: gazing in awe at the precariously high heels in every bold color of some kind of carnie/prostitute rainbow; examining the square toes and block heels of career woman shoes; feeling the cheap fake fur lining of warm winter boots. This was probably what Heaven felt like.

He was looking over a particularly strappy high-heeled sandal when the store's front door squealed and opened. There was no reason to pay any mind to it…until the unmistakable heavy sound of male footsteps began their way toward him.

_Shit shit shit. _Someone had found him. How was he going to explain this one? _I was shopping for new shoes for Mandy for Christmas - no, my sister back home - no - _The footsteps came closer and closer. There was something a little strange about these footsteps, actually…it was almost as if whoever was approaching him was wearing…

Kirby turned around and began to stutter a gruff excuse - until he realized he was face-to-chest with none other than Trent.

A flush crept into Kirby's cheeks. "Trent? What are you…?"

Trent only grinned in response, and then opened his tan floor-length trench coat to reveal the kinkiest damn boots Kirby had seen in his young life.

They were a gleaming black vinyl, with round toes and thick platforms in the front that brought the already-tall Trent up another few inches. In the back, the boots boasted sky-high, chunky heels with a line of chrome spikes running down them. The entire length of each boot was some hellish, delicious mosh of dominatrix accessories - grommets, laces, zippers, and buckled straps. The boot tops came to an abrupt stop at Trent's muscular, hairy thighs.

Above the boots, the bully wore only an old jockstrap, on which he had inked "I LOVE KIRBY" in fat block letters.

This sight might have horrified almost any other person on the planet, but in all honesty, Kirby was touched by it. He was even…dare he admit…a little bit aroused by it. He began to imagine very dirty, inappropriate things…and then he realized they were in public. Oh dear god, they were so very much in public.

"Trent," he hissed, "what the _fuck_?"

Trent grinned. "Aren't you happy, baby?"

"_Trent-_"

"I wanted to ask you out on another date. I promise we won't get caught this time."

"We have to get out of here! Where did you even get those…those…"

"Eunice."

"_What_?"

"It would probably be better if you didn't ask."

Kirby didn't ask. Trent, trench coat still open, shook his jockstrapped package a little. "So how 'bout that date, babe?"

"_Stop doing that with your...thing!_ And don't call me that, either!" He took a horrified look around. Thank god, the woman from before was gone and the store clerk had ducked into the back. His voice rose from an agitated whisper. "Where is this date that you're so sure we won't get caught, huh?"

"My room."

It took a minute for Kirby to understand what he meant, but when he did, his entire pale face flushed a bright red. His eyes dropped from Trent's face to his jockstrap and hovered there, weighing it, weighing what it might feel and look like. Then the little jock's eyes dropped down to Trent's ridiculous, sexy boots. He could feel his whole body getting hot just thinking about all the things that they could…

"Fine." Kirby was still blushing when he gave in. "We can take a bus back. Just please fucking close that coat."


End file.
